Starscraper God
by moongoat
Summary: challengeshipping (palmer/jun). smut. everything palmer possessed, he loved to the brink of his existence, with all that he was, and, in the only way he knew how.


**A/N:** jesusss it's been... 5 yrs since i uploaded any fan fic i thought this account was dead and i'm sure so did y'all if anyone is even still on here anymore. this fic is 6 years in the making, the initial 4 years being me going "how do write smut" and the last 8 months being "i can write the thing" whilst not writing it. so here's 8 months of my soul dragged out into 5, 299 words i hope you're fuckin happy. i'm not seeing any harmoniashipping fics anytime soon tbh.  
i use barry/jun's japanese name bc barry is just not a cute boy's name no two ways about it and no one will convince me otherwise. he has always been jun or pearl to me. sorry for any jarring or confusion which follows as a result of this.  
shift key doesn't exist in my universe and maybe i'll become a gay mills & boone writer one day, who knows.

 **DEDICATION:** for mujinai aka riokshte, in her first incarnation. i originally found her through googling challengeshipping as there is so little of it about and without whom this fic would not exist nor a lot of my starry night sky and dream-memory inspiration. you are one of the brightest moons in my orbit, parts of me would have remained unblossomed forever if i had not found you, and my cosmos would be a lot darker.

* * *

 **Starscraper God**

it was a temple befitting a god, jun had thought, upon laying eyes on the structure matching the address his father had given him. it seemed that not only did the tycoon & brains work at the battle frontier but they lived here as well, in a small secluded off shoot of the frontier itself, a small city-town in its own right, built for the private residences of those that worked for the frontier and kept it running.

the structure itself was nowhere near as high as the famous battle tower, where trainers fought their way to the top, each competing for his or her right to boast their own strength, skill and mastery. but it was a tower still, and tall, so tall, it seemed to touch the sky and scrape against the first stars in the soft light of the evening.

the interior was just as amazing as jun's first impression of the outside. he'd walked (he wouldn't run, not now, not here, his feet would not allow him, his legs betrayed him) along large and roomy halls, carpeted with amazing tapestried rugs and wall lamps emitting a dim, orange glow through translucent glass. it was truly a palace.

and now as he stood, in the fittingly bejewelled elevator, jun's heart started to beat faster and sweat broke out on his forehead, his hands trembled in his pockets, where he had put them to keep himself from fidgeting. it felt like an age since he had seen his father. sure, he would come back to visit occasionally, more than a few times a year in fact, it didn't always have to be a grand holiday for his father to need an excuse to visit his beloved family, and although jun truly felt his father did love them, in his own boyish way, the visits were always fleeting, and edged with a gap that his father didn't seem to know how to fill between himself and his own son. and before he knew it the excitement of hearing his father come through the door to greet his wife and child with warm welcome had turned into cold, lonely nights and days in the wake of would-be family living, and the rift grew ever larger, subtly and slowly as if at the dark dingy core of their relationship a pick-axe was being wielded, hacking away laboriously until slowly, slowly the sides of the rift edged away further, becoming an icy canyon with father and son trapped on either side only ever catching long distance glimpses of each other and echoes of one another's voices, sounds like little lost souls might make, trying to commune and convey across the void how they truly felt to one another. but the hacking sounds were faint and over the dinner table one might mistake it for a woodpecker pecking, chipping away at its own business outside.

jun wasn't always sure what his father thought of him exactly. he was exuberant and fun to be around, when he _was_ around. but sometimes he caught a sidelong glance from him that made him want to curl up inside. he didn't know if it was an accusatory look, as though he had done something wrong, or if it was merely a father regarding his son as a distant parent might do after long and regular lapses of absence. never the less it made jun's heart pound and lit a fire somewhere deep inside recesses of his being that he hadn't known were there and that he wouldn't even know where to begin looking to find the place of ignition.

but at least if he didn't know where he himself stood, he knew where his father did. in jun's eyes, palmer, the tower tycoon, was nothing less than a god. he couldn't believe he was his father sometimes, although physical traits and personality characteristics made it obvious that he could be no one else's son, jun felt pride and elation that _the_ tower tycoon was _his_ father. and he was about to see him face to face. for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. he couldn't even remember how long it had been since his father had come to visit. there had been a larger gap this time since their last meeting. was it 6 months? maybe more? maybe even nearly a year. he merely presumed his father had been particularly busy this year and didn't judge him much for it.

by now his heart was racing and he was jumping up and down on the spot with anxiety. this time was the first time he had been to visit his father, instead of the other way around. he had found it odd, and still did. what made it different this time? he had received a short letter carried by a starly (peck, pecking at his bedroom window) that simply read (in his father's messy and rushed handwriting): " _jun, i'm sorry i missed your last birthday, please come to visit soon so i can make it up to you,_ " with the enclosed address. and now he was here. his father had missed other birthdays before. and jun had never been to visit him before.

he was practically running on the spot now. the elevator lights moved up in their little numbered boxes one by one until he heard a ding. he was here. the top floor. he wanted to run out the doors as they opened but something held him back. he was more anxious about meeting this man than ever before. he couldn't run, not now. he stepped out into the corridor, it was as beautiful as the rest of the building, amazing rugs over polished floors, dim lamps throwing out a deep, warm light, golden pillars erected towards a ceiling holding glimmering chandeliers. the whole effect was a golden-orange shine, in amongst the purple and maroon furnishings, eerie yet beautiful. amazingly extravagant.

now, for the first time ever, (and tonight seemed like a night of firsts for many things) jun's feet seemed to drag. he had to actively make himself move, step by step, up the hallway until he found the apartment that matched the number on the address that was enclosed in his father's letter. his father's apartment. this was it. his hand shook as he hesitated, then knocked, lightly, three times on the door. the echoes made jun flinch. had he knocked too loudly? he felt as if he were intruding, unsettling the sanctity of this palace, and that he might be discovered and thrown out at any give moment for being a disturbance. no answer came to the door, until after what felt like an eternity in what was probably closer to seconds (his heart was ringing in his ears, he had to remind himself to breath) he heard a familiar, beckoning voice from behind the door, "come in."

⭐️⭐️⭐️

he entered the room and shut the door behind him with a click. the room was even more dimly lit an the corridors and jun had trouble making out what was what in the dark. his eyes darted around over shapes of shadows until at last they rested on a familiar silhouette of a man sitting comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, in a fittingly lavish armchair.

"hello jun," said his father said, with a half smirk on his face, he seemed to slightly relish over his son's name for a moment.

no hugs, no warm welcomes, although his father didn't seem displeased to see him, in fact, he seemed almost amused, it left jun confounded, lost for words. his father seemed to be giving him another one of his momentary looks, only as the time lapsed, it had turned into a stare and what jun felt was a cold reckoning. the fire inside him ate up any possible words or fragmented hellos he could have mustered. he just stood there, frozen. despite the inner heat, his father's gaze had him fixed to the spot, stabbing at him with cold, sharp tendrils of icy regards that jun couldn't quite grasp the ends of.

his father finally spoke again, lightly, "sit down." it was less of an order than an allowance, a giving of permission. jun wondered if he really had done something to upset his father as he sat on a velveteen lounge that his father motioned to as he spoke, seating them opposite of each other.

there was another moment's silence. palmer calmly took a sip from a low-filled glass of golden-brown liquid that jun assumed was some type of alcohol. jun hadn't seen his father drink much. maybe a glass or two of wine with dinner occasionally, he'd never seen him drunk. he couldn't tell if he was drunk now.

palmer slowly put down the glass on the side table, the ice cubes clinking together.

"i'm sorry i missed your birthday, jun." again, a small relish falling over the boy's name. he truly meant it. he felt guilt that he hadn't shown this year. he hadn't known how. this year's present was very different from any of his last. part of him was holding back, he'd wanted to savour it, and yet another part of him was altogether reluctant, of course mostly he'd wanted to rush straight in, but had restrained himself for one of the few times in his life. he'd mulled over it for a while - quite a while in palmer's world, where everything is done post haste or not at all - but had finally come to this decision.

and so here they sat, together, facing each other.

"it's okay dad, really." _you've missed others before,_ jun silently finished his sentence, wondering why it mattered so much this time.

"no it isn't, jun. this time is different. I feel your age is a special age for boys. i've decided to give you something different this year. something quite special. something that i believe will help you come of age." _ah, the elation at hearing jun call him dad_! he had been worried the boy blamed him for not being around so much, for not being there enough and hardly being a proper father at all. but the boy seemed to understand.

"you mean..." jun became starry eyed all of a sudden at hearing his dad's words, "a battle? a _real_ battle?!" if he hadn't cared about a present before, he sure as hell did now. he had battled with his father before, of course, but he always knew his father was holding back. jun wanted to battle his father full throttle, no holds barred. finally now that he was twelve, almost thirteen - his father's birthday present was that belated - the tower tycoon was finally starting to take him more seriously as a trainer. plus he had been travelling sinnoh, collecting badges, and if kicking team galactic's butt (admittedly with a lot of help from his friends) didn't mean anything as a pokemon trainer then what did?

a short intake of breath, a heart flutter, "yes jun," palmer was slightly taken aback, but also amused, this could work for a while, "it is a battle, of sorts." palmer poured himself another drink and then produced a second glass, pouring another. he handed it to jun.

"a-are you sure it's okay...?" jun asked.

"it's only a nip. you're old enough." jun acquiesced and took the glass from his father, hesitantly taking a sip. the liquid was biting and heady. jun tried to suppress a grimace. he took another sip then put the glass down on the side table with a clink.

⭐️⭐️⭐

a while later, when only fragments of frost lay around their conversation, jun pressed the issue again, "so, about that battle?"

palmer looked up. a gleam in his eye, the ever prevalent smirk. "yes, about that." he abruptly stood up and stumbled a little, gaining purchase on the armchair. "come jun, i have something to show you. now," he reached his hand out toward his son.

jun was slightly taken a back. he took his father's hand after a moment's hesitation, and was pulled up and practically dragged across the room.

surely his father was not going to battle him right now? jun had thought it would be tomorrow, perhaps or more than likely at the battle tower. where would they even battle? it was a spacious apartment but surely a battle would be much too restricted inside a residence such as this.

his father was pulling him toward a door off the main living space. perhaps it was only related to the battle, thought jun. a new invention, item, a new pokemon even! the elation of the idea or perhaps his lack of tolerance to the small amount of liquor he had drunk made him misjudge his step and nearly trip into his father, who caught him around the waist.

together they walked trough the threshold of doorway and into the room.

it turned out to be a bedroom. palmer's bedroom. jun stopped and looked around the room. palmer kept walking and gracefully sat himself on the end of the king sized bed that was dressed in deep purples with rivulets of golden embroidery on the silken bed clothes. a sliver of moonlight from between the curtains laid itself upon his face, making one eye gleam. the sliver and the spark of palmer's eye were the only lights in the room.

"close the door, jun."

jun didn't move. his eyes had adjusted to the dimness. he couldn't understand what could possibly be of importance in this room. he felt tired, his lids felt heavy, and his thoughts had slowed down. never had they been this slow in his life. it wasn't necessarily an unpleasant feeling, but an alien, unaccustomed and questionable one. surely it wasn't simply the darkness of the room?

palmer raised his eyebrows and inclined his head to the door.

slowly, like lifting an extra weight tied to his arm, jun pushed the door shut.

"come here, jun." palmer spread his hand across the bedspread invitingly.

the bed looked comfortable. ah, perhaps he wanted jun to have a good night's rest before their big day tomorrow. jun made eye contact with his father, questioning. if the situation had been odd in the slightest it tripled with the look jun's father gave him. was it malevolence? was he angry? and the way he wrapped his voice around jun's name with a growl. it burned into him and twisted his stomach. it was as though he was staring into jun's soul. jun felt as if he might be devoured; but his head felt so heavy, and - oh, it must be the alcohol! although he had only had a little he had drunk it relatively fast and had never had anything of the sort before. hesitantly, slowly, jun moved towards his father and sat down on the bed next to him. he unsuccessfully repressed a yawn and his head dropped to the side a little.

palmer put his hand around jun's shoulders. jun opened his mouth to say something when his father's hand started slowly trailing up his shoulder, then neck, to cup his head where his jaw met the bottom of his ear. jun's held his breath. then palmer pushed the boy's head gently into his shoulder. jun breathed out. oh, some fatherly love after all these years, so foreign it shocked him and made him feel slightly uncomfortable. it was very unlike his father to be so affectionate.

"how are you feeling, jun?"

"tired. will we battle tomorrow?"

"oh... i will give you your present sooner. much sooner." palmer's fingers, hand still on the boy's shoulder, gently caressed his skin and trailed slightly underneath his collar.

jun pulled away, alerted by his touch, and looked into palmer's eyes. oh that wicked glint. "what do you mean? my present... it's not a battle?"

"we can battle if you wish, jun. tomorrow, as you said."

"i don't understand."

"i told you, your present is different this year. special. like your age. i've decided you're old enough now, jun."

the way he purred his name raised hairs on the back of jun's neck. he hoped his father didn't notice the goosebumps that popped up where his hand lay on jun's shoulder, or feel the shiver running down his spine. he swallowed.

"don't worry, jun. it'll be fine. hopefully," a slight pause, an extra depth to his voice, "you'll _enjoy_ it."

"why would i not enjoy my present?"

"coming of age. it's not always what's it's cracked up to be." his father became silent, seeming to be somewhere else for a while, then emitted a small, short laugh. "don't worry jun," he said again, getting up off the bed, walking over to an armchair and slipping off his coat, "i'm going to give you something you'll never forget." he threw the coat over the armchair and walked back to the bed, coming to stand in front of jun.

now jun knew something was definitely off about this whole situation. he couldn't put his finger on what it was but he could not envision what his father's present was and could only imagine this whole thing as some sort of strange ruse. a prank perhaps. his father was the cheeky sort after all.

"dad... i'm not sure about this. I don't understand what my present is."

heart fluttering (he had called him dad again!), "it's okay, jun. you don't need to understand." palmer grabbed jun's hands and pull them up under his shirt, forcefully flattening the boy's fingers out against his stomach and pulling them up along his torso until they reached his chest, pulling the boy closer to him as he moved.

jun's breath caught in his throat and he looked down towards the floor. his forehead was resting on his father's stomach, forearms held against the man's skin, hands spread out on his chest. he could feel the rise and fall of his father's breath, the thud of his heart quickening in time with his own. he wasn't sure what was happening, if it was happening at all. he must have misunderstood the situation, something different must be happening from the outward appearance of things. there must be a perfectly valid explanation. anything but this. a wave of light headedness washed over him.

"jun," his father sighed with a sharp intake of breath, head leaning back.

palmer then leaned over him and grabbed the bottom of jun's top pulling it up and over his head, there was some mild cafufflement when his scarf got caught and palmer had to untangle it. jun didn't move. he just sat there, rigid. finally off came the scarf with his shirt. jun had managed to get his hands out of his father's grip but not for long. palmer lifted his own shirt off, then grabbed them and ran them up along his torso once again. jun made a slight discomforted whine and managed to look his father in the face, questioningly.

"it's alright, don't be afraid," said palmer with all the would-be ease of a reassuring parent.

jun didn't know how to feel anymore. a thousand empty thoughts raced around the fog in his head.

palmer gripped jun's arms tightly and pulled him up, leaning into his face. jun flinched and made to move away, quickly turning his head to the side.

"it's okay, jun," palmer whispered softly in his ear, nipped his ear lobe very gently, grazed his teeth just under his jawline and grabbing the boy's face, pressed his lips against jun's. (oh how soft they were!)

jun panicked and writhed to get out of his father's grip which only tightened.

"shh, it's ok," reiterated palmer, kissing and grazing and gripping; shoulders, neck and lips. his mouth was wet when he kissed him and sometimes his tongue flickered between the boy's lips but the latter refused entry.

"relax." more kissing and hands kneading the back of his shoulders, caressing his bare skin.

suddenly palmer's hand found its way into jun's pants and was cupping him, kneading him; moving just the right way, the wrong way. jun had never been touched like this before. his body betrayed him, a loud gasp escaped his lips. palmer, satisfied with the boy's gyrations into his palm, emitted a low growl into the boy's neck where his head was placed, lips were purchased, sucking skin gripped lightly between teeth.

tears started to trickle down jun's cheeks. palmer licked them off with a flick of his tongue as they fell.

his expert hands roughly rid jun of his trousers, socks, shoes & then his own almost all in one go. breathing heavily he grabbed the boy and threw him on to the bed, still haphazarding kisses here and there while pulling off jun's underpants as the boy squeaked in frozen protest, then moving to take his own encumbering pants off.

jun watched in mute horror as his father removed them to reveal what looked to be, in the dim light, his fully erect member. instinct took over and immediately jun rolled over onto his stomach and started to crawl quickly away from palmer towards the end of the bed with new found will, boosted by adrenaline.  
"uh uh uh," tutted palmer in a growl, quickly hooking the boy's leg and dragging him back until he was underneath him again, "where do you think you're going?"

a toothy kiss on the neck, a noise like a tube being squeezed, hands grabbing his hips, slightly pulling apart his cheeks, a wet thumb rubbing him in a place he'd never imagined anybody would touch, entering him slightly, pulling back out.

jun grabbed the purple bed spread as something a whole lot bigger than a thumb was pressed against his entrance until it finally entered him with a light pop. jun gasped loudly, trying to muffle his cry into the sheets. "shh," cooed palmer, "i don't want to hurt you, jun. let me know if it hurts." jun pressed his face further into the bed, he didn't know what he felt. his father was moving in and out of him at a pace that made him feel like his entire body had become butterflies. he tried to imagine he was in a peaceful grove of those butterflies, far, far from here, and from his father. unconsciously he started emitting light, irregular gasps. palmer bent over to reach jun's ear and whispered, "that's only the tip now, jun."

the tip? the tip of what?

egged on by the boy's excellent, if subtle, vocals palmer could hardly control himself. "ready jun," he uttered the vague command almost inaudibly, as he thrust his full length into jun a little too roughly. the boy cried out in pain and jumped forward, nearly pulling entirely away from palmer who pulled him back with lightning fast reflexes, holding the boy's hips even firmer now so that his fingers dug in, bruising him. jun whimpered, face still in the bedspread. leaning in to the boy's neck again to kiss him, "sorry jun, i didn't meant to hurt you. truly," tears trickled down the boy's cheeks as he grasped the sheets tighter than ever and palmer licked them away for the second time that night. he lightened his grip slightly and started softly gyrating into the boy who slackened a little and started to emit small noises again. slowly palmer upped the pace a little, moving the boy's hips with his hands, sliding himself slowly in and out, in and out, in – jun bucked and moaned, the butterflies where gone, replaced by a hot feverish fire, both a mixture of pleasure and occasional stabs of pain. his body moved against him, he could no longer control it, hold himself still. encouraged by jun's movement palmer stopped holding back and moved with the boy the way he had wished to for longer than he could remember. he had wanted this, planned for this, for what felt like an agonising eternity which he now let loose, no holds barred, thrusting it into the perfect, small hips underneath him. jun started moaning and gasping louder, faster; a squeak of intense urgency mixed with a tinge of fear. palmer tightened his grasp on the boy's hips and all at once they were gyrating together in perfect synchronisation until the boy practically screamed and felt his father's hot seed fill him a moment after his own had involuntarily spilled forth. palmer flopped on top of the boy and they lay as such for a while, too wrought to move.

palmer finally pulled out, heard jun's sharp intake of breath, but saw no movement nor other signs of life from the boy. he put his arms around him, pulled him up to his chest and cradled him in a parody of fatherly love, whispering, "my boy..." close to jun's face, "you really are my boy." no response came from jun, limp as a rag doll. palmer would have thought he were dead could he not hear his faint breath. perhaps he shouldn't have given the boy so much overproof. gently, as if carrying a newborn baby, he hauled jun's slight form to the top of the bed and tucked them both in for the night, never letting his new rag doll go until he arose in the morning, for everything palmer possessed, he loved to the brink of his existence, with all that he was, and, in the only way he knew how: by breaking it to reform and mould into his own being.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

jun had woken to the slivers of morning rays filling the room through the drawn curtains with a foggy head and pinpoints of pain needling various parts of his body. despite himself he had drifted off quite easily. he had never thought he would do so with palmer still on top of him, surrounding him, sticking to him. he had just wanted to disappear into the bed forever. back to the forest grove of butterflies.  
for jun, the morning was full of long silences, awkward moments and an ever persistent pain in his gut that wouldn't go away. palmer seemed as collected and confident as ever, unaffected at all by jun's mood. in fact he seemed jovial in stark contrast to jun's apprehensive withdrawnness. he even cooked a big breakfast for the boy, which again, despite himself and his gut, he devoured without question. neither of them spoke except for necessities.

around midday they ascended the battle tower to the top most floor and had a gruelling battle, no holds barred. of course palmer won, but he had truly taken a thrashing and his milotic was on its last HP points before it finally took out jun's staraptor with a critical ice beam.

and with that, outside, as the first stars of twilight came out to caress the tower's tip, almost as if to pay homage to the gods that the tower seemed to be erected to in the first instance – for it truly was a tower befitting the gods; irreprehensible, undeniable, intangible, unbeatable gods – jun and palmer said their goodbyes. reiterations of how it was a good battle, their best yet, happy birthday, hope to see you again soon - that glint in palmer's eye at the latter no longer such a mystery to jun yet just as chilling. jun was tremulous before it, as timid as a mouse standing before a golden lion grinning at what it could hold, had held in its claws before, and knew it could have and hold again. yet he couldn't hold back, he knew, without chastising himself forever. he had to say it now, while his fear gleamed sharp with the edge of anger for this moment and maybe only ever this moment in time, "why? dad..." he asked, rage immediately turning in on himself as his question came out as a plea, a need for something, some acknowledgement from his father as opposed to a chastising of him, "why?"

his father merely smiled and hugged him. too emotionally wrought to protest, jun leaned into the hug.

"you're my son," his dad whispered, nearly inaudibly into his ear, warm breath on his neck, for all intents and purposes his voice sounded as true and loving as any father toward his son would, the hug as innocent and natural as father and son could be; warm, comforting, the acknowledgement jun had always wanted, had waited for, "you're mine. i made you. you're not a boy any longer, you're a man... and i love you, man to man.

"now," palmer pulled away, hand on his son's shoulders, gleaming grin, grin gleaming, reflecting off the permafrost that once again settled itself around their entire relationship, "have a good trip, stay in touch. we'll battle again soon."

the underlayed meaning of his words was not lost on jun.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

a shattering of stars stretched across the sky as jun made his way back to his regular trainer's life. he reflected on his father more than ever, what he would do if he came a-visiting during the next holidays, how and under what circumstances they would again meet, anticipation and anxiety already lacing the edges of such thoughts.

jun biked his way into a small forest grove, the last of the day's butterflies alighting into the twilight as he did so. dismounting his bike he wearily wondered at his father's lion-like prowess. he was the king, undisputed, of the frontier, and jun had been his final frontier. jun knew he should be angry. part of him was. part of him was hurting, part of him - probably the boy part, he mused, perhaps he was a man now after all - was trembling in a cold, dark room that he had locked up immediately last night and thrown far away the key. and yet strangely, and juxtaposed to everything that had manifested in the passed 24 hours he knew he still loved his father, in the boyish way that a son does, and sitting beside that love, ever growing, was a stilled, quiet awe for this man, who was, in jun's eyes now, truly a god, as equal to and as far distant as the stars he scraped shoulders with in his mysterious, dark, interstellar dimensional ways; unattainable to jun as ever before.

childishly jun wondered if this newfound frontier of their relationship would be the bridging of the gap between his earthly, childhood pursuits and palmer's cosmic, star-scraping, golden god royalties.

as jun finally drifted off in to deep, renewing sleep, a small, repetitive and persistent sound reverberated around and inside the grove, which, to anyone listening, could have easily been mistaken for a woodpecker pecking, chipping away at its own business outside, as the stars smiled down upon him.


End file.
